


The Wolf Inside

by Claire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Character Bleed, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:13:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JR had been laughing and grinning and loving the fact that the underlying theme in both his and Ian's panels had seemed to be the relationship between Chris and Peter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wolf Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: Ian jerking off thinking about Chris and Peter

Ian drops down onto the hotel room bed, his arm over his eyes. He knows he should sleep, that he's got to be up early tomorrow for the second day of the convention, but he's too keyed up. He loves doing cons, loves meeting the fans and hearing about how the show has changed their lives or seen them through bad times. When he gets to the end of the day, after the panels and the photoshoots and the autograph sessions, he's normally still buoyed on the energy coming from everyone there.

And it doesn't help that both JR and Hoechlin are at the con, as well. That they came back to their hotel from the con hotel and then ended up in the bar doing shots. JR had been laughing and grinning and loving the fact that the underlying theme in both his and Ian's panels had seemed to be the relationship between Chris and Peter.

Tyler had been slightly bemused. "I mean, you've only shared one scene together," he'd commented.

JR had just waved him off with, "What can I say? We just have animal magnetism."

And Ian's blaming the third whiskey for the way he'd agreed. "Also, Peter did impale Chris on his hard bar."

JR had guffawed, drawing the attention of at least two other people in the bar before he'd quietened down. "Oh, please, Bobo," he'd commented. "We both know who would be on their knees in that pairing, and it isn't Chris."

They'd each drifted back to their rooms soon after that, but Ian can't get Jay's words out of his mind, can't get rid of the image of Peter Hale on his knees in front of Chris Argent.

Ian knows Peter, he's been in the wolf's head for years. And, yes, he thinks that maybe what Peter needs is someone to take him in hand, but he's surprised at how many people apparently believe that someone should be Chris.

Ian's own personal background for Peter, the one he keeps in his head, has never tagged Peter as straight. Ian's always thought that Peter would be attracted to anyone who intrigued him, regardless of what was between their legs. And he can't deny that Chris intrigues Peter. Ian feels it when Peter slips into his mind, when he reaches that space where he's not Ian anymore, and the cameras around him fade away.

Down in the sewers when Peter had pinned Chris to the wall, when he'd leaned forward afterwards and pressed his forehead against JR's, it had felt right, even though it hadn't been scripted. It had felt like what Peter wanted to do, what he _needed_ to do.

So, maybe Chris is exactly the person Peter needs. The one to ground him, anchor him.

Ian thinks that Chris would reach out, cup Peter's face with his hand before he gently pressed on Peter's shoulder, pushing him down until Peter's kneeling before him.

Ian's cock is twitching behind his jeans at the thought, and he snaps them open with his free hand, releasing his half hard cock. He wraps his fingers around himself as he thinks about being Peter, about being in front of Chris.

He wonders how it would be, a wolf sucking a hunter. Thinks about Peter being surrounded by Chris' scent as he blows him. Because Ian's been on his knees enough to know the heady scents that can cover you when you're sucking cock, but Peter's a wolf. He'd scent not just Chris, but the underlying wolfsbane and gun oil and the leather of Chris' jacket.

Ian jerks himself, thinking about. About how much _more_ it would be for Peter. And that's not even considering the history between their two families. Ian tightens his grip as he considers the trust it would take for Peter to go to his knees for Chris.

But Ian thinks he would. He thinks Peter would drop to his knees and take Chris' cock into his mouth. Because he knows Peter, and Peter _wants_ Chris, wants him in ways he knows a wolf shouldn't want a hunter.

Pulling his hand off his cock, Ian licks at his palm quickly, slicking it up. The added wetness makes the glide of skin over skin easier, and Ian can feel the pleasure start to build in him.

He can feel Peter starting to nudge at his mind, can feel the wolf sitting in the back of his brain. And if he lets Peter in, lets Peter slide into his body, then he can almost taste Chris on his tongue. The taste of the precome runs over his tastebuds, and it's sharper, more _there_ than it has been any other time Ian's had a cock in his mouth.

Ian bites at his lower lip, teeth that feel too blunt worrying at his skin. And there should be teeth sliding through flesh, because Peter's on the edge of Ian's consciousness and the fact that he doesn't have claws or fangs feels wrong.

Rubbing his thumb over his cockhead, Ian gathers the precome there and slicks it over his cock, the friction against his cock barely there now. He thinks about what Peter would be doing right now, working Chris over with teeth and tongue and lips, and a hint of fang sliding against vulnerable skin.

But Chris would like it. He's a hunter with his dick in a wolf's mouth, he doesn't live by playing it safe. His hands would tighten in Peter's hair as he'd murmur words, too low for human ears to pick up, but more than loud enough for a wolf.

Ian can hear them, low and careful, in a voice that's JR's, but isn't. Can hear the Yes-- and the That's it--

Each of the words would sink into Peter, settling under his skin as he worked Chris' cock. And he'd hear the slight hitches in Chris' breath as he got closer.

Ian speeds up more, stripping his cock quickly.

He wonders if Chris would pull out, or if he'd come down Peter's throat. He thinks that there would be something about Chris Argent wanting Peter to swallow his come, wanting a wolf to take part of a hunter into himself. But Chris is more wolf than he would care to admit, even JR says that. And if there's something better than a wolf wearing his mark on the inside, then it's one wearing it on the outside. Marked for all to see and scent.

So Ian knows that Chris would pull out, would wait until the last moment before he felt that pleasure washing over him. And Peter would kneel there as Chris' come hit his face, the warm drops landing on his skin, the scent of Chris spreading into him.

Because Ian feels Peter wanting it every time Peter is in his mind. Feels him wanting that connection, needing those threads that link him to the people around him. But more than that, more than the connection that Peter needs, there's something else. Peter wants to kneel, but he only wants to kneel for the right person, needs the right person to put him on his knees. And Ian knows that it's because of the fire, because Peter lost everything. Because, regardless of what Jeff says, about how Peter's just a psycho, Ian knows that he isn't. That the wolf is spiralling, that he needs that one person to take him in hand. He knows that Peter is looking for an alpha. And Peter seems to have found it in Chris Argent.

Ian's balls tighten as he jerks himself, the heat building in his stomach, ready to burst out. And he can feel Peter. The scent of Chris is in his nose, the cooling splatters of come on his face. There's a sense of peace in Peter in that isn't always there, a sense of belonging, of pack.

And it's not just Ian's cock that's hard, it's Peter's as well. With his eyes closed, Ian can imagine the man in front of him, his fingers wrapped around the softening cock that's just laid its claim on Peter's skin.

Chris reaches out, his hand cupping Peter's face, his thumb slicking his come over Peter's cheek.

Ian bites into his lower lip at the look on Chris' face (not JR, never JR, regardless of how much Ian may want it to be). There's the press of lips against Peter's forehead, a soft brand against Ian's skin.

Ian shudders as he comes, his lips wrapping around a name as he spills white into his own hand. And he doesn't know if it's Chris' name or JR's, because he's too far into Peter to pull back entirely.

He moves his arm away from his eyes, opening them to stare at the ceiling above him. His breath is slowly calming, his dick softening in his hand. There's a presence in the back of Ian's mind, and he knows it's Peter, strangely calm and content for the wolf. And maybe Ian should be worried that he can feel Peter in him. After all, Peter's not real, he's nothing more than words on a page and a thought out history in Ian's head. Only, he's more than that, more than the purr Ian can feel in the back of his mind, more than the sense of contentment he can feel through his entire body.

There's a lethargy starting to wash over him and his alarm is already set for the time he needs to be up. It's the work of moments to push down his jeans and kick them off, to pull his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor next to the bed.

Burrowing under the covers, Ian closes his eyes and lets both the darkness and the soft rumble of Peter inside him lull him into sleep.


End file.
